Category: pop culture

Friday’s Theme Music

Mood: coffeenated

It’s blue skies and sunshine forever for Friday, June 7, 2024, from my Ashlandia place on the town’s southern realms. Sprummer is holding strong but summer is leaning in. Air feels fresh and comfortable at 79 F, but we’re expected to climb the ladder to over 90 F before the sun delivers its final daily ration.

Mom has her new hospital bed. She seems pleased with it but. Yes, one but is that she claims it’s eleven feet long. Huh? Second criticism is that the mattress (which she says is plastic) is hard and uncomfortable. My wife warned me about that so I’ve ordered a topper for Mom. It’ll arrive tomorrow.

The weather’s sunny disposition pleases Tucker and Papi. They eat a few breakfasts in the morning and then take to the outdoors. Finding a comfy place, they sack out. Their comfort level goes to eleven on a scale of one to ten. After evenings long shadows spread, they come back in for more food.

I spent some time this morning reading news reports about the findings of the judiciary watchdog Fix the Court and how much Justice Clarence Thomas has been given over the years by his wealthy friends. Later, the Supremes released their own financial disclosures. Justice Thomas received more by far in number of gifts and their value. They weren’t cheap but we’re assured that they’re wholly innocent. My snark alarm immediately lit up, with my brain clamoring, “Sure, he wasn’t affected by expensive trips and baubles. No one ever is.”

Meanwhile, since I’d not had coffee at that moment, The Neurons introduced “Moneytalks” by AC/DC from 1990 into the morning mental music stream (Trademark bidding open). While the song is about a woman being attracted to wealth and how wealth affects judgement, ‘money talks’ as an idiom seems like it’s been around as long as money has been around. It’s the popular belief that having money opens doors, solves problems, and buys favors. In short, the wealthy are above the rest of us because their money affects outcomes. They can bribe their way to avenues the rest of us dream about, and they use their money to curry favors and get out of jams.

Yet, we’re to believe that friends like Harlan Crowe paid for Clarence and Ginny’s $160,000 cruise around the Greek Islands in 2007 because Clarence and Ginny are such awesome people. I’m certain that it’s just me because I’m a mad cynic, but I think deals like that are to gain subtle control over people. You know, tit for tat. It may not be bribes but it sure feels like buying influence.

Be positive and stay strong, and Vote Blue in 2024. The power of coffee is reverberating through my body. Let’s do this! Here’s the music. Cheers

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Thursday’s Theme Music

Mood: sprummery

“You make me feel so young,” I told the day. “You make me feel like summer has come.”

Yes, it’s sprummer in Ashlandia, where the crows’ conversations dominate the morning’s sounds. Today is Jun 6, 2024. School is out. Light clouds sketch patterns over the blue sky but mild haze mars our western view. Dust, pollen, fire somewhere? Don’t know yet.

Our temperature currently resides at 70 F. That’s a temporary stop, up sixteen from when the cats forced me out of bed. 88 F is our forecasted high.

In surprise news, Mom is receiving her hospital bed back in Penn Hills. Last that I knew, back on Monday, more paperwork of an unexplained nature was needed. Now, bang, the bed is being delivered today.

The news set up falling dominos of actions and reactions. Mom immediately called daughters to come over with their hubbies to dissemble and move the old bed. Sisters et al responded, “We can’t now. We’re at work, we’re at appointments, we have commitments,” which dismayed Mom. She needed and expected everyone to immediately come to her aid, and adulting prevented that from happening. Stress, irritation, frustration, anger, and resentment all gyrated upward. Mom felt abandoned, and her daughters felt unreasonably burdened. It’s worse because it’s all part of a recurring cycle of ‘come help me now’ and ‘I can’t, I’m busy’.

Viewed from a distance, out of that, The Neurons initiated “King of Pain” by The Police in my morning mental music stream (Trademark changing). The 1983 song elaborates on the many small, overlooked matters that causes an observer to feel pain for the others and their situation, feeling this in his soul. That pain translates to rain, and then they express hope that another would end the rain, which would end their pain. I’m certain that it’s this circle and unfulfilled hope which attracted Les Neurons to this song today.

Be strong, stay positive, and Vote Blue in 2024. Also, enjoy, however you can, and try to make something of it. Coffee is doing its thing; time to go do mine. Here’s the music. Cheers

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Wednesday’s Theme Music

Mood: summery

Carrying on with modern traditions and protocols observed in the western world, I find myself in Wednesday, June 5, 2024.

What a Wednesday it is. Sunny and fresh, like it just came out of the oven. 74 F now, we’ll climb to 86 on the thermostat. No talk about rain or thunderstorms but some suspicious clouds are hanging around.

You see the weather in Texas? After clipping 105 degrees F in Marathon, Texas, they had a minus 50 degree swing and ended up with several feet of hail. It’s all part of a miserable extended period of bad weather and weather swings — thunderstorms, tornados, flash floods, extreme heat. A few are dead and power was out for over 600,000. I feel for Texans and hope that we don’t end up on the same route out here in the PNW.

Now a bon voyage to Wiltmore and Williams. I know it sounds like a law firm specializing in personal injury cases on late night television. They’re not. They’re astronauts on the Boeing Starliner heading for the ISS.

Today’s morning mental music stream (Trademark flooded) inhabitant is “Woman from Tokyo” by Deep Purple. The 1973 song is quintessential seventies rock. Yet it has that soft, reflective middle interlude that puts a pause to the rocking beat. Why are The Neurons playing it for me his morning? Don’t know. They’re not talking. While I remember several dreams from last night, I can’t trace the song’s lineage to any of ’em. Just another mystery. Either way, this is a fun rendition of the song for me.

Stay positive, deal with the weather as needed, remain strong, and Vote Blue in 2024. Here’s the music video. The coffee consumption has begun. Cheers

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Monday’s Theme Music

Mood: Persistfee (a sense of persistence fueled by coffee)

It’s a day of indifferent clouds and sunshine, this Monday, June 3, 2024. Rain spits and dries. Temperatures fall and bounce. 76 F, thermometers declare, but a chiller feel hangs in the air. Today’s high temperature is at hand.

Spoke with Mom this morning. She related bureaucratic issues keeping her hospital bed from coming on. I depend on her for the info so I can only accept her explanation. According to the PCP’s nurse, aka John, everything has been forwarded to the company who will deliver the bed. But they claim something is missing and hold that the bed can’t be delivered until this unknown element is delivered. It all has Mom and I swearing and wondering.

She sounds good, spirited and energetic. She’s been cleaning, she said. So what will the hired help clean when she comes this Thursday?  Mom declares, “I’m not going to pay her to come if there’s nothing here to clean.”

My sisters and I predicted this as a real possibility. Mom prides herself in a clean house. It’s a large part of her persona. Once the cleaner began coming, Mom rose up and began cleaning in anticipation of the cleaner’s arrival. She’d already said the cleaner wasn’t allowed to clean the kitchen because that’s Mom’s territory. Nor could the cleaner help with the laundry; Mom is very particular about how her clothes are washed and dried.

I think Mom is taking a narrow view of having a cleaner come in every week or two. Mom has rallied now but is that sustainable? When will she overdo her poor stenosis-plagued back and cause herself a new injection of pain and immobility? What if she falls – again – and hurts herself? Those are what-ifs, and pieces of logic. Mom’s issues with cleaning are emotional and psychological. Just one son’s opinion. I hope that these worries never see light.

Today’s song is “Green Tambourine” by The Lemon Pipers. The 1967 psychedelic pop hit is playing in my morning mental music stream (Trademark freeze-dried), and I don’t know why. Following the usual course, I interrogated The Neurons, but they closed ranks and shut down. Couldn’t even get a word out of them after plying them with coffee. Stupid little boogerheads.

Off to the coffee shop to let the muses play with words. Be strong, stay pos, and Vote Blue in 2024. Here’s the music. Cheers

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Sunday’s Theme Music

Mood: Raintertained

A light rain falls in some Ashlandia neighborhoods, where the traffic is light and the pace is slow. Petrichor’s smells ease into my nose and raise my spirits. Love that smell. Reminds of everything and everywhere and nothing and nowhere. Goes well with my black coffee’s bright, sharp scent.

Glad to report that Tucker continues his comeback. He’s gained weight and energy, and has become more talkative.

That all took Papi by surprise. Unaware of Tucker’s improving health and increasing energy, Papi pranced up to Tucker and indulged in a sniff.

Whipping around like a startled cougar, Tucker snapped out a left paw, just missing Papi as the latter jumped back, snapping, “Meowww!” I think “Meowww” meant, “Whoa, dude, chill, I was just smelling you. Didn’t mean to offend you. My bad.”

Floofish is an economical language.

Today’s music comes by way of a song. Sounds silly but listen up. As I went about my morning, I was suddenly hearing “There Is Nothin’ Like A Dame” from the musical, South Pacific, in my morning mental music stream (Trademark staged).

Hearing it, I queried of The Neurons why that song was playing. Those cheeky monkeys responded with The Eagles singing, “I Can’t Tell You Why” from 1979.

So that’s where I’m at. Stay pos, be strong, lean forward, and Vote Blue in 2024. Here’s the music. Cheers

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Saturday’s Theme Music

Mood: Coffbulant

June has pounced. Hope you weren’t too surprised.

It’s Saturday, June 1, 2024. The year is plowing into its second half. Probably will be as fucked up as the first half, perhaps more. The board has been set for that.

I’m back home, where I’m happy to be, although I was living a good life back in Penn Hills, visiting with family and enjoying Mom’s company. I can tell you about the long day of travel to reach home but I made it unscathed. Although it’s much better than taken wagon across the nation or driving backroads in something like a Ford Model T, this mess of late arrivals and departures, full flights, and constant jockeying for a place in an aircraft feels like the new norm. Airports must be thrilled; bet business is up at all those airport restaurants, and that’s probably good for the restaurant. Airlines are probably indifferent: the bottom line is financial and not customer satisfaction.

It’s a pleasant 79 F here in Ashlandia, where the ground is dry and the greenery is browning.  Left the house Thursday at 5:30 AM back in Penn Hills, got home Friday at about 1. Been playing catch up since. That’s what you do when you return from traveling. But my wife, cats, and house all seem fine, as does the town.

I leaned about former POTUS Trump’s convictions while traveling. I was surprised. I honestly anticipated a hung jury and can tell you I’m really happy to have been wrong.

Listening to reactions since amuses me but brought little surprise. His stout supporters, which seems to be most of the GOP these days, still insist that the doddering, inept individual who is too old to be POTUS has pulled another one over Trump and the GOP. While I don’t agree with their characterization of President Biden, even the GOP must admit that their party and its candidate must be woefully unprepared and even more inept to allow President Biden to take down the GOP and Trump as he’s apparently done. I mean, to cast President Biden as so incapable and then have someone that’s so incapable beat Trump and the GOP down so completely must feel like a huge burn.

But no; they can’t hold such reasoning in their mind. Even though some of them claim Trump is sent by God. Guess their God abandoned them. It’s bizarre and sad thinking over there in MAGA Land.

Telling you, though, I think this trial chewed Trump up. Here he is, one unsullied by justice and the legal system suddenly being forced to sit in a courtroom and listen to the truth being told about him. Hearing 34 times that he’s guilty. Hearing twelve impartial jurors saying that he’s guilty.

Look at him. He looks tired. Worn out. OLD.

Listen to that speech after he left the courtroom. OLD. TIRED. LISTLESS.

Yes, his mojo took a big hit.

Today’s morning mental music stream (Trademark unsullied) comes from Taylor Momsen. Seems that a bat bit The Pretty Reckless vocalist when they were opening for AC/DC. I thought, that’s pretty fucked up.

Bang, The Neurons leaped on that. See, one of The Pretty Reckless’s songs is “Fucked Up World” from 2014. It’s a fairly raw rocker:

Back to these back door bitches begging me to behave
Jamming Jesus down my throat, no, I don’t wanna be saved
Ain’t a chain on my brain, I’m nobody’s slave
I got one foot in the cradle and one in the grave

h/t to Genius.com

Be strong and positive, and Vote Blue in 2024. Here’s the music. Cheers

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Thursday’s Theme Music

Mood: flightrupted

It’s Thursday, May 30, 2024. Beautiful light blue sky with a little haze is outside the window. Sunny and 52 F.

I’m seeing the world through the Pittsburgh airport windows waiting for my Alaska Air flight. I was supposed to be leaving at 7:50 AM. About six minutes from now. Instead, estimated take off is now 9:18 AM.

That prevents me from my next leg, which was to be my final leg, Seattle WA to Medford OR. Now I’m going from Seattle to Salt Lake City to Medford. Instead of arriving about noon in Medord, I’m arriving about midnight. That sucks for my wife, who is picking me up.

Yeah, it’s all first world blues, innit? Still have food and a decent life. Just a series of bumps on this travel day, so I’m whining about it. I mean, I’m not out in a storm or getting shot at. I’m wired with a computer and reading the news.

And there’s a comic aspect. As I cope with these fight changes, the airline is urging me to start planning my next flight with them.

With this skewed schedule echoing in my head, The Neurons have Molly Hatchett performing “Flirtin’ with Disaster” in the morning mental music stream (Trademark delayed). The 1979 song isn’t quite right for the situation but I’d need to feed them more java before The Neurons will come up with something better.

Thank you to my sweetheart of a little sister and her daughter for getting up and picking me up and driving me to the airport. They’re both awesome people. They’re always doing things for me and treating me like a friggin’ prince, so I’m always in debt to them.

I’m coffeeing up. Stay positive, be strong, and lean forward. Let’s Vote Blue this year, shall we?

Here’s the music. Cheers

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Wednesday’s Theme Music

Mood: Cuspsized

Fog and a cool 58 F greeted Churchill Valley on Wednesday, May 29, 2024. Today’s high will be lucky to break 66 F. Thunderstorms are possible.

Thunderstorms hit us again last night. I was out at my sister’s house for dinner. My BIL was grilling some serious beef, shrimp, and chicken. The smell of rain lingered in the air. Chonky gray clouds cruised overhead.

Rain broke, soft at first, warning shots, but the serious stuff arrive about an hour later. Weather warnings lit the phones. An hour later, the storm had significantly decayed, but I encountered chunks of it while driving home.

I’m on the cusp of heading home. Flight is early tomorrow morning.

My feelings are on a trampoline of reactions. I look forward to being with my wife and fur buds. I look forward to taking on some adulting needs and getting to work on stalled projects.

But I’ll miss Mom and my sisters and BILs, and all the children. Sharing a time zone with them has been very satisfying.

I feel like the nation, even the world, is also on a cusp. Donald Trump’s criminal trial has reached the jury deliberations stage. Analysts, pundits, lawyers, and relatives are all given opinions about the outcome, and why. And then, regardless of the verdict, what’ll happen? We’re on the cusp of finding out.

We’re on summer’s cusp in the northern latitudes. Violent storms have been striking the U.S. Destruction is rising. Travel is disrupted. So are supply chains. 23 are dead in the U.S. People’s power has been cut off. Is this an aberration or the new climate change norm? We’re on cusp of learning.

Israel attacked Rafah on Sunday. ‘All eyes are on Rafah.’ What will happen there next? I’m not arguing the right of Israel to defend itself, the role of the U.S. and other nations, nor the reasons why Hamas launched their attack last October, triggering this latest season of death and destruction. I’m like many, wondering if we’re on the cusp of a greater conflagration.

While we’re at it, Russia continues its assault on Ukraine, and Ukraine fights back. The deaths mount. More NATO resources might get involved. Are we on the cusp of world war? Could this be the cusp of a long-feared nuclear war?

And we’re on the cusp in the U.S. of finding out how extreme the GOP will be to keep people from voting. We’re on the cusp of finding how much of democracy they’re willing to destroy to keep the voters silenced and stay in power.

Looks like we’re on the cusp of a long, historic summer.

Being on the cusp of so many possibilities incited The Neurons to fill the morning mental music (Trademark almost ready) with “Enter Sandman” by Metallic. I can see The Neurons’ reasoning: this summer could be a nightmare, and that’s what the 1991 sound is all ’bout.

Hey, ho, here we go. Be strong, stay safe, be well, and Vote Blue in 2024. Here’s the music video. My coffee tank has already been filled.

Cheers

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Tuesday’s Theme Music

Mood: Cofflective

Here we go, Tuesday, May 28, 2024. Tornados have been messing with large swaths of the U.S. resulting in death and destruction. I’m thankful it’s milder here in the Churchill Valley, although it’s worrisome that lightning apparently struck a house and put it on fire.

Unevenly shaped, rough clouds muddle this morning’s pale blue sky. Sunshine skates in and out. It’s a cool but pleasant 60 F out. Today’s high will flex around 70 F. Thunderstorms and rain are in our close future.

Mom is doing well. Well is a relative term. She’s always expressing weariness and pain; those are regular life features for her. But she buzzed around the house, getting downstairs to do her laundry as only she can do it. She ate well. And she watched television, cursing Trump, wondering again who and why anyone would vote for “that thug”. ‘Idiot’ is sometimes subbed for ‘thug’. I need to remind her to do her property tax senior rebate.

After all the local holidays and birthday parties, I’m afraid that we’re running out of desserts. We only have remnants of angel food cake, a chocolate chip cake, coconut cream pie, an almost whole large apple pie, half of a tuxedo cake with chocolate mousse, and pecan sticky buns. It’s looking grim.

Tonight I visit with my sister’s family again. Tomorrow night is my nephew’s graduation. Thursday, I wing my way out of the area on an Alaska Air flight. Fingers crossed that all goes well with the flight and weather. I’m already working out the packing logistics to account for items added while here.

I ended up with “Stick Season” by Noah Kahan (2020) in the morning mental music stream (Trademark sharp). This almost stream of consciousness song about who the singer is after the changes wrapped up with a relationship’s end just mesmerizes me. It felt like a natural as I thought of my relatives’ lives, as well as my own, and where I’m at, and where they’re at. In our conversations about these things, struggles, failures, success, and frustrations were discussed, sometimes in short, sharp anecdotes and confidential revelations, but often through a long lens of reflection.

Let’s get on the move. Stay positive, be strong, and go forward. Also Vote Blue this year, okay? It’ll help us be strong and move forward.

Coffee is being gulped down and my pulse has resumed. Here’s the music. Have a strong day. Cheers

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Monday’s Theme Music

Mood: Coffee’dup.

It’s Monday morning on Ma 27, 2024.

Like many on the east coast of the U.S., it’s a wet one here in the Churchill Valley. Blue sky has retreated as gray clouds carpet out most of the sun. 66 degrees F at this point, 79 F might be the temperatures’ upside.

I’m staying in one of the suburban areas east of Pittsburgh. Many parts of the city lost power due to storms this past weekend. We’ve been fortunate, knock wood.

Awoke today feeling little rested after a night of scarcely remembered fractious dreams. One dream piece recalled featured police officers. One turned into a human sized cat. The other cop became a frog and hopped away. I awoke wondering what their names were. I usually remember dreams pretty vividly so not remembering them causes me to ask, “Damn, what’s wrong with me that I’m not remembering my dreams?”

Had a satisfying and comfortable Memorial Day visit with my sister’s family. This is again one of the young sisters. I have three of them, all smart, who always throw open their doors and welcome me to their home and their table. None of them will let me pay for anything, which, while I appreciate, also vexes me. I love them and their families.

Satisfying and delicious food was on the table yesterday, of course. Pasta salad. Calico beans without the bacon. Corn souffle. Rice and cheese with broccoli, meatballs, and hamburgers with or without cheese. Hard to resist my stomach’s urgers to “Eat more, eat more,” even though I was quite full. Desserts included cakes, fruit with angel food cat, and key lime and apple pies. Yeah, we’re a fortunate family in regards of having food and shelter security, and a family that gets along reasonably well.

Mom is doing okay. She was down a bit yesterday, with a cranky overlay. I suspect this came around from getting up early to dress and leave for the cookout. It was starting at 1, so the timing forced her out of her returns and comfort zones.

When I wrote a previous phrase, ‘It’s a wet one,’ Der Neurons pushed “Smooth” into the morning mental music stream (Trademark flooded). “Smooth” is a ’99 collaboration between Carlos Santana and Rob Thomas, and was written by Itaal Shur and Thomas. It’s a smooth rock offering, with strong lyrics, wonderful percussion, and some soaring Santana licks.

Stay positive, be strong, and Vote Blue in 2024. Coffee is already fueling me and sunshine has overcome some of the clouds. Hey, ho, here we go, slinking toward the May’s finish. Here’s the music.

Cheers

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